


obsession

by x (ordinary)



Series: Lifeblood [1]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinary/pseuds/x
Summary: A series of small drabbles from tumblr regarding Caustic, Octane, death, and the connection between all three.





	1. Chapter 1

Octane doesn’t know his “real” name. No one does. So he calls him Caustic, because that’s who he is, now.

Alexander is dead, gone, abandoned. Alexander is a stolen corpse left behind on Gaea. A dropped case. A fugitive put to rest.

Now, he is the sum of his parts sans two fingers. Now, he is free.

Caustic calls him Octavio, though. Never shortened, not ever.

Octane has been his handle since his first haphazard stunt put on a screen. He’d built a following around it until he was famous for chasing danger as he followed the eager thrum in his chest that always asked _what next_?

Then the accident happened, robbing him of his limbs but not from his future. Octane became a Legend, but Caustic knows that beneath his gear and stim and laugh and skin that it’s just another vehicle to chase an all new high.

He also knows, though, that he’s a better one.

It’s why he has the perfect test subject, a willing one who falls head over heel to ask for an infusion of danger and adrenaline.

Octane lets him think that, anyway, so long as he can ask for yet another ride on the respawn highway.


	2. Chapter 2

They can’t keep it secret forever. 

Between the cameras of the games, the camera on Octane’s lapels, and the limited company in the compound, it’s bound to get out, and Octane doesn’t care. Not really.

It’s not like Octane tries hard to stay away from him when they’re _not _fucked up on each other getting fucked up. Caustic is a recluse, but that doesn’t mean Octane doesn’t have a jab or a line or a straight up tackle waiting in the wings for him. 

It just takes a while for people to get it because Caustic puts a bullet in his brain every time. Or his chest. EIther or. Eventually, they cotton on to the fact that Octane goes out of his _way_ to do this, in a way that isn’t just his reckless haphazard way. But no way, right? No way.

It takes someone realizing that when they’re on the same team and Caustic talks _allll_ the time about how death is the true test and wishing for results that it also counts as dirty talk for them with the way Octane giggles manically and demands it as a promise for later.

Octane’s stream clamors to see the whole cycle personally, and sometimes they get their wish. Sometimes they donate and bet on what might happen today, in what way Caustic will help him expire. 

Most of the time, though, Octane likes to keep it to himself. He doesn’t care so much about his own body– it’s been seen from every angle, healed or hurt or whatever– but having to show the world how Caustic looks at him while he turns Octane into his personal experiment, well.

A guy’s allowed to be greedy, isn’t he? 


	3. Chapter 3

No matter the test case, mutual hunger is their universal control. 

Like a slavering beast waiting to be fed, they strangle themselves against the chains that constrain them, leaning in, and in, and _in_, until they snap. 

Untethered by limitations, they circle around each other until the ever inevitable collision. An ouroboros of obsession binds them together as sure as any chemical reaction. Octane chases him down to wind stolen strings of fate around them both, knotting them together until they cut into his palms. Until there is only the sanguine, dripping down their hands.

They stay in perpetual orbit, and Caustic looks at him with a naked hunger that goes beyond skin deep. His eyes and fingers slide beneath the epidermis until they can touch the muscle and gristle and _bone_.

He cannot offer Octane love, but he can offer him promises followed through. He can offer closeness that makes their DNA writhe and meld. He can offer an eternal interest, and that’s enough.

It’s more than enough.


	4. please, kill me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> absolutely written while longing for caustic to knock me out so i could go the fuck to sleep

When he can’t sleep, he drags himself to the basement labs. The lights are low, and all is still aside from the hiss of airvents and the distant sound of music.

Caustic listens to old music, from before humanity getting scattered to the furthest reaches of space. With strings and piano with composer names so long that Octane honestly doesn’t think they’re worth learning.

It’s five am and the music is still on, and a weak wave of relief washes over him. Thank fuck. He’d still be there. He’d help.

He follows the music until they’re more than muffled notes, until it blooms into something delicate. Something haunting.

When he opens the door, Caustic is waiting. “Octavio,” he says, without sparing Octane a glance. “Do lock it behind you.”

He’d laugh but he’s so tired that it comes out a wheeze. Like a dying fish, gasping in the sand. He misses the sea. He misses the ocean of relief that comes with dreams.

Octane sidles up beside Caustic, hopping onto the counter just like he knows he shouldn’t. The man is exhausted himself, and it shows. He looks like he’s pushing fifty more than ever with his tired eyes, his shaking hand. That cough of his that rattles more in the night.

It’s a weakness that Octane doesn’t mention. An unspoken agreement. Sometimes, he needs to be forced to quit working, and that’s just fine.

Sometimes octane needs to be forced, too. They can have this mutually beneficial destruction. It’ll do them good.

“Well,” he says, pulling one prosthetic leg up, tapping his foot insistently against the countertop. “Do I _reallyyyy _need to say it, _amigo_?” Octane grins, even though his voice sounds like a gravel road after some things have rolled over on it and died. “You gotta be at a stopping point, _si_?”

Caustic pulls back from his work with a grimace, one hand going to rub at his lower back.

_Man, he’s beat enough that he let that slide? Yeah, he **better** stop working!_

“You are aware of my stipulations,” he warns, but Caustic’s brown eyes are on him all the same. He lays a hand on Octane’s thigh, thumb brushing the seam between metal and skin through clothing.

From someone else, it would be comfort. From him? It’s a warning, and a relief.

“_Fine_.” Octane rolls his eyes. Having to ask for _everything_ he wants is such a pain in the ass when he knows _full well_ that the big guy knows what he’s after. Using one hand to mime a blah blah blah hand motion, he says: “Please kill me, I can’t sleep.”

Caustic hums in satisfaction, finally laying his pen down to rest. He admires Octane like a houndmaster does a fine beast, and it’s a balm to know that he’s deliberating between his many methods of administering pain.

Administering death.

“Come with me,” he says, patting Octane’s thigh as if he were a thoroughbred animal ready for the race, and it’s not wrong. The scientist’s testing chamber lies up ahead, and in his palm is a vial of something new, and horrible.

Octane grins, and annoys the man by yanking him down for a kiss by the beard, laughing into his mouth. He tastes like stale coffee, smells like chemicals, and is going to kill him to end Octane’s hunt for a good night’s rest. They bite into the kiss until it’s impossible to tell who’s bleeding. Until it is impossible to tell who is predator and who is prey.

Sometimes they take their time with it, so that there’s room for violence and delirium and sex. But tonight, it ends softly if only because it ends _swiftly_.

Octane will get his rest. Caustic will get a final observation.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow the games begin anew, and Octane will have the glory of a newly minted body, fresh outta respawn, and a good thing too–

_Someone’s_ got to carry their squad.

**Author's Note:**

> [The Apex Games Rule Book](https://dangerjunkie.tumblr.com/post/186314846212/apex-legends-rule-book) \- How respawning works, how bodies and minds are stored through repeated lives, how death boxes work, etc
> 
> I'm [dangerjunkie](https://dangerjunkie.tumblr.com/) and am glad to write anything in response to prompts, asks, etc!


End file.
